


Intimacy

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, ace angst, relationship angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Fitz doesn't like sex. He can't help but wonder why. Is it experience? Nerves? Is it Daisy? Surely not. Maybe, he's just different, and there's nothing wrong with that.





	Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Skitz/FitzDaisy. Fitz is asexual, and feels guilty because he knows Daisy likes sex but he doesn't.
> 
> For those who are interested, I have a FitzSkimmons Ace!Fitz fic with similar messaging, called Equilibrium. This one is FitzDaisy, with a little platonic FitzSimmons.
> 
> Rated T for sexual references. Angst/Hurt/Comfort with a Happy Ending.

read Equilibrium [here x](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11160264)

-

He chalked it up to inexperience, at first. He was probably concentrating too hard, and the sensations couldn’t carry him away like they were supposed to. The nerves probably didn’t help either; distracting him, forcing him to introspect on every tiny movement and feeling and let’s be real, even the people who liked sex a lot more than he did probably didn’t enjoy the nitty-gritty of it all that much. But as time wore on, he began to feel a disconnect between what Daisy was doing and feeling and telling him, and what he thought.

Despite his misgivings, Fitz was, apparently, good at sex. The more they did it, the more Daisy let him know; with her voice, with her body, with gifts and with trying to return the favour. She told him explicitly, knowing his penchant for insecurity about these things, and Fitz began to rethink his position. If he was good at it, why didn’t he enjoy it? It wasn’t like sculpture or mechanics surely, where one liked it or did not. It was supposed to be a universally pleasurable thing, like chocolate.

(Although, he supposed, there were people that didn’t like chocolate, too.)

It certainly wasn’t for Daisy’s lack of trying, of Fitz’s lack of wishing. She didn’t speak much about his lack of enjoyment. He really was trying, and sometimes trying meant faking it a little, and she usually let him have that without question, although sometimes he could see it grating on her. So it should, he supposed; it would on him, at least, if he were for some reason unable to satisfy her. He wished he had an answer for her, some miracle cure that would bring him to new heights of pleasure, but in all honesty he was just as confused as she must be. 

Eventually, in his quest for this miracle cure, he turned to the closest and most genius pseudo-medical chemical expert he knew.

“Jemma? Can I talk to you?” His eyes scanned the other lab techs. There were only a few centimetres between him and Jemma and that wasn’t normal for a couple with partners who were not each other. He shuffled back a little, uncomfortable under their gawking eyes, and added “…in private?” 

Jemma smiled, good-natured and curious. She finished addressing the nearby technician and then led Fitz toward an empty bay, where they could talk. 

“I was wondering if you had – or if you knew of something – to help with, um…” He scratched the back of his neck and tried not to wheeze the next word: “Sex.”

Jemma blinked. She looked him up and down, before she could stop herself. 

“Yes. Of course. Sorry!” Snapping out of it, she shook her head. “Sorry, that wasn’t very professional of me now was it. Of course we have some things for it. There are plenty on the market, but there’s also a stock at Shield. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Fitz. Plenty of people have trouble, especially after such traumas as you’ve been through. Wait right here, I’ll get you some, it’s no trouble.” 

Relief washed through him as he stepped out of the way to let her pass. It was that simple? Really? Thank God. He couldn’t wait to tell Daisy. 

But when Jemma returned and handed him the bottle, Fitz scowled at it. He read the ingredients over again, in case he’d missed something. 

“This – this is basically Viagra.” 

“Well, yes,” Jemma said. “If you want anything stronger I’m afraid you’re going to need a prescription.” 

“Stronger? What? No.” Fitz shook his head. “This isn’t what I meant. I don’t – I mean – all the _plumbing_ is working just fine. It’s… the actual sex part, I’m having trouble with.” 

Jemma laughed a little. 

“Nerves? Oh surely Daisy can help you out with that better than I could in this particular circumstance.”

“Daisy has ‘helped’ plenty,” Fitz insisted. “It’s me I’m worried about. I just… get the feeling that sex is supposed to be a lot more… fun, I guess, than it is. More passionate. Just… more.” 

He saw the shadow of it cross her face; the same doubt that had crossed his mind, and no doubt Daisy’s, a few times of late. 

_Are you sure you really love her?_

It was well known that Fitz wasn’t exactly the most sexual of beings, but with a deep heart and strong romantic desires, he – and everyone else, he assumed – had just come to believe that he was waiting for the right person. That person hadn’t been Jemma in the end, but he’d set down roots a lot faster and just as strong with Daisy. They had the makings of a romance, and a deep craving for love and family and understanding that they could finally match. To think that after all this time, all this effort, all this heart, he might not love Daisy like he wanted with his whole heart to do… It made him feel defeated. 

It defeated Jemma too, apparently. 

“Fitz, I – I’m sorry, I have to get back to work. Honestly, Daisy’s the best person for this. You two will figure something out, I’m sure. Good luck.” 

She smiled at him, a little sadly, and left. Fitz left too, then, kicking his feet aimlessly, hands in his pockets as he wandered back down the hall. He took his time going to Daisy’s bedroom, his stomach turning slowly, like compost. He opened the door to find Daisy reading – a spy novel, of all things – and she looked up, and her face dropped. 

“Hey,” she greeted. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Fitz started gravely. “Apologise to you, I guess.”

“What for? Wait. Hold on. Is this a break-up speech?”

Fitz met her eyes, earnest and sorrowful. 

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Okay.” Uncertainly, Daisy set her book aside. Her hands knotted into her sheet covers as Fitz climbed into bed. He hugged a pillow, picking at its corner as he spoke. 

“I know I haven’t been the most – responsive partner,” he apologised, “and I want you to know that it’s not your fault, not at all. I feel very comfortable around you generally and you’re very attractive and there’s – there’s no trouble there at all.” 

“But?” Daisy pressed. 

“But,” he obliged, “I don’t see a way forward at the moment, for us. Doesn’t mean there isn’t one, but… if we’re not compatible, we’re not compatible, and that’s nobody’s fault, right?” 

“No. Nobody’s fault,” Daisy agreed. “So why are you apologising to me?” 

She nudged him with her shoulder, and took his nearest hand in hers. Fitz looked up again. Her eyes were strangely hopeful.

“I – I mean I just, feel bad,” he explained, “for not meeting your expectations, I guess. For not being a good partner. I feel… ungrateful. Guilty, even, sort of. I really like making you feel good, Daisy, but I… really wish sex wasn’t the only way to do that.” 

Daisy snorted a little. 

“’The only way’. Listen to you.” When her jibe didn’t get a rise out of Fitz, she softened her approach. “Look, Fitz – I don’t know why you and I aren’t vibing, maybe we just have very different approaches to sex. Maybe sex just doesn’t appeal to you, it happens. But it’s okay! It’s okay, because we love each other, and we aren’t together to have sex. We’re compatible in a lot of other ways that don’t involve anyone’s genitals and frankly, I’m not about to give that up. ‘The only way’ to make me feel good? Fitz, please. I am one of the luckiest, one of the most loved people on this planet, and – come on, even now you only feel bad because you love me so much. That’s amazing! We have something amazing. Don’t throw that away over a little lack of fireworks.” 

“I did mean _physically_ good _,”_ Fitz clarified, blushing a little with chagrin.

“Well, there’s plenty of non-sexual things in that department too!” Daisy insisted. “Have you ever cuddled yourself? Because if not, you are missing out. Also, the backrubs, honestly? I could melt. Come on, there must be some things I can do for you that are better than sex. Ha. I can’t believe I just said that sentence out loud. But come on, lay ‘em on me.” 

Fitz started. His whole view of intimacy shifted all of a sudden. How had he overlooked all of this for so long? 

“Well, I like… sitting very close to each other, or cuddling, and all that. I – I like it when you come in the shower with me. I like kissing, I _really_ like kissing, but I also really like when we have movie nights, and it’s just us, and eating popcorn and chocolate in hotel robes in bed.” 

He blushed. It all felt so scandalous, like he was confessing some daunting kink. Daisy was smiling now though, soft and kind. 

“And backrubs?” she proposed. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a backrub.”

“Never? Not ever?” 

“Well, not since I was a kid.” 

“Oh, babe,” Daisy said, pitiful. “Come here. Take your shirt off, lay across there. I promise I’m not going to do anything sneaky. That’s the way.”

Daisy was a known - and beloved - prankster, so Fitz wasn’t entirely convinced, but she also wasn’t completely ignorant, so he was not exactly unsurprised when she made no swift and sudden move against him. Instead, just as promised, she began gently but firmly rubbing circles over his back, until he couldn’t help but sigh a little. His turning stomach settled. 

“See?” Daisy said, still massaging steadily. “There’s plenty else two people can do with their bodies than sex, Fitz. There’s massage, erotic massage – though I don’t know, maybe that’s too much like sex? – and apparently there’s this thing where you paint each other that’s supposed to be just _amazeballs._ There’s probably loads. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” 

Fitz mumbled incoherently. He was, piece by piece, becoming so relaxed that he was losing track of his body parts. Daisy could feel it as his shoulders unknotted and his body sunk deeper against the mattress. She smiled and leaned back against her pillow, settling into a slow and steady rhythm. 

“Love you too,” she said.


End file.
